Silence is Golden, but Duct Tape is Silver
by Anastasia101392
Summary: It's the end of the world- it never goes according to plan. EVENTUAL Daryl/OC. No flamers. It's all in good fun.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** Daryl Dixon is delicious- but, I do not own him or The Walking Dead.

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><p>Daryl Dixon had a temper, and everyone in his group knew it- the five foot eleven, lean man had never kept that a secret, always the first to throw a punch, always the last to go down in a fight. On a particularly smoldering hot Georgia day, he let that temper loose throwing whatever he could get his hands on at a particularly wimpy tree before strutting off into the forest in search of something to kill. In Daryl's mind, he felt discouraged to associate with the rest of his group, almost an outsider, but involving himself anyways. One could describe him as an alley-cat who would either purr for your attention or rip your throat out with his claws; unpredictable was what he was. Dangerous is what he called himself.<p>

The women at his camp couldn't keep their mouths shut about him- that's what the current temper tantrum was about. Though he would never admit it, he always regretted his temper afterwards, but stubborn pride kept him from apologizing to them all. Daryl was not the cleanest of men at the camp, nor was he the dirtiest. He kept his hands clean, made sure to bath every other day. He simply didn't see the point in bathing twice a day as the women did. For God's sake, he crawled around in dirt to feed them, they should be more grateful.

It was this state of mind that had left Daryl open to ambush- he heard the click of an arrow being notched just before he felt the blinding pain searing his leg. Again, he heard the click and heard it fly; his thoughts being consumed by death and pain.

He heard a sickening thud and managed to open his eyes only to see a walker land three inches from his face, an arrow lodged perfectly in the center of its once human face. He should have known that he was being hunted. He quickly broke and slid the arrow from his leg, crawling only a few feet before collapsing from the heat and exhaustion.

A shadow loomed over him and he felt a small, cool hand touch his feverish face; he hadn't even heard the footsteps. The last thing Daryl Dixon remembered before blacking out were gold and green eyes that reminded him of the sea.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** No ownage. Still wishing for it though *sigh*

Daryl awoke to the crying of women and children; men were huddled around him making him feel claustrophobic. The biting remark was in his head, but he couldn't make his mouth respond- it felt like cotton. It was so damn hot, why wasn't there air conditioning in this bitch?

Oh. Right. End of the world. No air conditioning.

Where was he? He heard muffled talking, as though he were underwater. He couldn't open his eyes, his strength was weak. Inside he started to panic, was this hell? Had he died and gone to hell? He didn't think he was that bad of a person.

He concentrated trying to make out the voices and heard Sherriff Rick Grimes, speaking to someone, "I don't know what happened- all I saw was a woman carry him into the middle of the camp with his leg bandaged up." Some ruffling could be heard to Daryl's left, "Dude, there's medicine in this, with written instructions on how to use it." Glenn? Had to be, he was the only one who could use the word 'Dude' as an appropriate term of address with people.

"Lemme see that," Rick said, "It says: '_Sorry I shot your man in the leg, I thought he was a walker. I bandaged his leg, have him take these pills once a day until the wound closes up.'_" Silence.

"At least she apologized?" Glenn asked tentatively.

"There is that"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Don't make me admit the obvious.

The night was quiet, not even the chirping of birds could be heard over the vast forest- Shauna knew she wasn't alone, there were creatures that were hunting for her flesh even as she killed off more and more. Walkers, she thought with disgust, putrid individuals who once called themselves humans. Now they were reduced to mindless rubbish, meant for the feasting of their former brothers and sisters.

She looked down from her perch in the trees. People didn't think it was a good hiding place, but she knew better- it was a perfect place to hunt, to watch. Shauna's mind wandered back to the stranger she had shot the day before, she found herself wondering time and time again if he had made it; she wondered if she should go check on him most of all.

She shook her head and settled back into her nook. Pointless, he had his village to look after him, and Shauna didn't associate with humans anymore. Still, he was there in her mind. She had seen him hunting often, only bringing in small animals and distributing them amongst the campers.

In her old life, she would have wanted to analyze him, learn why he cared and fed this group of people when he so clearly didn't enjoy their company that much. The bread winner. That's what he was, in non-scientific terms.

Stupid, she thought to herself, you're not a scientist anymore. You don't study people, you avoid them. And you definitely don't talk to them.

And although she tried to talk herself out of it, she knew she would seek the strange man with deep blue eyes and golden hair out again- human nature, and Shauna was definitely human.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: **Your killin' me Larry!

It had been nearly a week since Daryl had gotten shot in his leg. And he was still pissed. He knew now that it had been a woman who'd shot him, bandaged him up, and dumped him back at his camp. Forget the fact that she'd saved his life from a walker! She'd shot him in the leg! Daryl seethed at the fact he couldn't hunt for the group anymore, worse yet he didn't want them to go hungry. Despite all their protests for him to get a steady recovery, Daryl couldn't help but push harder on himself every day.

He needed to hunt. He needed to help keep this camp alive. It was all he was good for.

He was stomping around the back end of the camp- delegated as the "safe-zone" for him, as determined by Lori and Carol, to exercise in until he got his strength back- when he heard the commotion. As fast as he could, he grabbed his crossbow and ran, or rather limped, his way towards the sounds. Everyone was half circled around the edge of camp and Daryl's heart jumped into his throat.

Please, he thought desperately, don't let this be another walker attack. Shoving his way through the throng of people, his jaw dropped instantly. There laying out like an offering from God was a beautiful, golden buck with an arrow sticking out of its neck; and kneeling over it was a woman with long black hair cascading over pale, gold dusted shoulders. As if sensing his arrival, her head shot up and looked him straight into the eyes- her eyes, a green and molten golden, met his with indifference. He _knew_ those eyes.

Daryl just stood and stared at the woman, who by no means could be considered beautiful, but could never be plain either. With a quick tug she dislodged her arrow from the neck of the deer, gestured with a hand and started to walk away. Finally dragging his tongue off the ground he started to chase after her.

"Now wait just a damn minute!" He said hobbling after her, his breath coming out in short pants from the exertion, "You shot me!"

The woman paused and turned her head towards him slightly as if listening, then slowly turned when she realized he would say no more. Looking him straight into the eyes, Daryl saw the sorrow and pain written in her features. He knew without words that this woman felt incredible guilt for hurting him.

Daryl and the woman stood facing one another, each watching and waiting for the other to make a move. When Daryl made no change in his stance she bowed her head slightly and walked back into the woods, and out of his sight.

He gazed into the woods for a few minutes, blindsided by the sincerity of her features, before returning to his camp now full of happy people who would finally feast.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a Daryl Dixon, God knows I want him though.

As the weeks continued by, the woman made regular trips to Daryl's camp bringing food and protecting them from as many walkers as possible; each time, passing through quickly and barely allowing anyone to catch a glimpse of her. He didn't understand it, but he had a nagging feeling in his gut that she was avoiding him. This woman, who hadn't uttered a single word, had his attention completely.

Daryl was in a constant battle with himself as he struggled to recover- always arguing that her not coming to see him was a good thing. He didn't need to be around people, all they did was make things complicated; and Daryl, did not like complicated.

Most days the woman brought bucks and does, other days' only rabbits and squirrels, but no matter she stopped at least once a week to check in with the camp- to feed them. It was impressive, Daryl thought. A woman who could hunt as efficiently as she did; he was making it a habit of visualizing her day after day as he worked his legs vigorously, straining to gain his strength back. He'd always believed that beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, obviously the woman wasn't a great beauty- but, he wouldn't deny that she was attractive.

Daryl wondered what she looked like without mud covering a majority of her skin- her long, dark hair combed and washed. She would have been noticed, he assumed. The woman, her eyes were pure sin, with alabaster skin splashed with a constellation of freckles over her face and shoulders. Even in a tattered tank top and ripped jeans, she managed to glow with confidence, but she carried herself with secrets.

Daryl was summoned from his day dreams by a loud thud and turned to the noise. Speak of the devil- or, er, think.

She stared at him with honest curiosity in written in her features, unabashed to be so interested. Daryl just looked slack jawed as she laid her latest kill near his feet. Another minute of silence and he finally spoke up, sounding harsher than he meant, "Why do you keep bringing us so much food?" He immediately regretted the tone, but said nothing to retract the words.

The woman continued to stare for another minute, and just as she started to turn Carl ran into the clearing and squealed with excitement. Pain and guilt flittered across the woman's face momentarily before settling into a neutral expression yet again when she saw Carl smiling at her with shameless joy- before stepping forward and hugging the woman around her waist.

Unsure of what to do, she simply stood there watching the young boy show his affection before hugged him back, hesitant and careful as though she would break him.

When Carl stepped back finally, the group had gathered around and were inspecting the young woman and the young boy as though it were a show to watch.

"Thank you," Carl said looking up into her face. There was a softness to the woman's features as she gently touched his cheek.

Then as suddenly as the moment had happened, it was over. The mysterious woman, turned and ran back into the forest, as though hell hounds were on her trail.

Daryl still watched from the sidelines as the crowd began to disperse, dragging the newly dead corpse of yet another doe into the main of the camp, wondering if the woman was ever going to speak to him and give him answers. Just as he was about to go on about his business, Lori and Rick approached him, Lori holding her husbands' hand so tightly it was a wonder she hadn't broken it.

"Is she going to harm us?" Lori asked, fear evident in her face, it shook in her voice.

How the hell was he supposed to know? Daryl couldn't get her to talk to him, the woman obviously came and went as she pleased, it had nothing to do with him. Daryl answered with a shrug, simply because he didn't have an answer and didn't want to look like a fool.

"Has she told you her name at least?" Rick asked, finally broken from the spell that had transfixed him and his wife.

"Hell no," Daryl said, angry because he hadn't even thought to ask it, "All she does is stare at me and then walk away. Woman's a damn nuisance if you ask me." He kicked a rock, showing the edges of his temper yet again.

"She likes you at least," Rick replied after a moment.

Daryl just looked up in shock, "How do you know?"

"Because she doesn't look at anyone else."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

As summer turned to fall, and fall to winter, the camp became accustomed to the coming and goings of the mysterious woman. Daryl's mood continued to improve as his leg healed and he regained his strength pushing himself further each day- with the silent encouragement of the green eyed woman. He was familiar with her presence and had begun to feel an emotional that came close to relief when she brought them food once a week, but soon it stretched to two. Daryl appreciated her help, but as the days grew shorter, food sources dwindled, and the air grew frigid with cold- he knew he would have to begin hunting again. Soon, the meager clothing and shelter that the campers had could no longer provide the necessary protection they needed from the changing seasons; and, with this new knowledge, walkers were not the only threat to the camps survival.

It was a particularly frigid night that the mystery woman returned with three bags and dispersed them amongst the campers as usual. The first she handed to Daryl, and as had become habit it was a bag full of rabbits, skins and all. The second bag, was smaller, and she handed it to Lori crouching down in front of her and looking at her pulled out what looked like instructions. The third, and the largest, sack was full of blankets, shirts, pants, and finally several pairs of moccasins- enough for the people in the camp who needed new shoes.

The ritual was the same, Rick approached the young woman and tried to speak to her, "What's your name?" She continued to stare at him with a blank face, eyes showing no emotion. But this time, Carl wanted a turn. Everyone had seen the way she watched the young boy, almost like a mother watching their child. If he wanted out of the camp for some reason, she returned him quickly.

Carl pulled on his father's sleeve until he responded, "What, son?"

"Let me try," he took a step forward, reaching for the woman's hand and finally taking it between his own. The mystery woman was of slight stature, barely five foot three if Rick was correct, her hands were child sized and delicate, with long fingers and dirty nail beds. Beautiful hands in the past, working hands in the present.

Carl tugged the young woman down to his height and whispered, "Please, tell me your name."

The woman gulped and looked into the eyes of the young boy, tears forming in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. She looked to the ground as she crouched in front of the young child before stating softly, "Shauna."

No one moved, not wanting to break the spell Carl had placed under the huntress. Carl turned, still holding the hand of the woman named Shauna, and began introducing her to every one standing around their private moment.

"This is my Dad and that's my Mom over there holding his hand." He tugged her closer to the fire and pulled her to sit down, "There are a lot of people here, but you'll learn all their names eventually."

Shauna wouldn't say much, she barely looked at anyone in the group but ate with them around the fire.

Daryl stood behind the group and watched as they played Spanish Inquisition. He felt a twinge of regret for not stepping in and helping her, the poor girl looked like a deer in head lights. Everyone wanted to know who she was, where she was from. How did she know what she knew?

The only people who didn't seem interested in her were Lori and himself. And Lori was always interested in new people.

Daryl made his way towards the leader's wife and watched her fondle the bag and re-read the piece of paper Shauna had handed her.

"What's that?" He asked and sat down next to her. Lori jumped up and shoved the paper into her pocket quickly, "Nothing. Do you want some more stew?" She moved towards the camp fire taking his plate with her.

"No thanks." He continued to watch her, "What does it say?"

"It's just some herbs to help with fevers if we get any." Lori tried to shrug nonchalantly, "directions on how to use them and all that. No big deal."

Yeah, right. "So instructions make you nervous?"

"Daryl, it's none of your business." She quipped tightly.

"Whatever." He said before stalking off.

That damn woman is on me about everything, showering, finding more food. Suddenly he stopped and walked back to Lori side and gripped her arm, "Your pregnant."

Lori didn't say a word, and kept her features blank, but her eyes screamed in fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," She responded evenly

"Bullshit," He gritted and sat down, releasing her arm, "It why you've been eating more, why you want me to bathe regularly." He looked into her eyes, "Admit it."

Lori sighed, "Yeah."

"Is that what the herbs are for?"

"Yes, but I don't know how she knows."

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><p>When they finally stopped questioning Shauna, most of the group dispersed retreating into their tents with their new blankets, excited that they would no longer need to huddle around the fire in the middle of the night. Of course, the blankets were only temporary and eventually they would need to find warmer shelter than their tiny camp.<p>

Only Rick and Daryl remained at the end of the evening. Daryl tried to inconspicuously watch the young woman out of the corner of his eyes, but Rick noticed- and said nothing. Shauna continued to stare into the fire, obviously uncomfortable around the two males.

"Can you teach us to make clothes and blankets?" The question startled Shauna out of her deep thoughts. She looked towards Daryl, it was the first time he had addressed her directly all evening.

Shauna was taken aback- unsure if she wanted to teach something so personal to these strangers. She remained silent, stewing her thoughts as she wondered if she wanted to stick around so long.

I need to get to the mountains, She thought to herself, I need to find my father.

"Well?" Daryl asked, gaining an edge to his voice- he hated when people didn't answer him.

"I don't know," She said quietly. And it was the truth.

How could she leave such an innocent little boy alone in this world- Carl's family would never be able to protect him if they didn't know. Shauna felt a sharp pain in her chest as she remembered her brother, Jake. Remembered the shining innocence in them, how they held love when they looked into her own. Jake had been the perfect younger sibling, when Shauna felt alone he was there holding her hand, her best friend.

She blinked the tears away from her eyes. Could she live with herself if she didn't help these people? They would never survive winter without the skills to create warm clothes. But they wouldn't survive winter in Atlanta because of the walkers, either.

Throwing a quick glance towards the man she had shot weeks before, the man who had ignored her for a majority of the evening. And Shauna looked at Rick as he stepped towards her with pleading eyes, "Please, help us."

She stared calmly into his eyes, a whirlwind of emotion swirling through her conscience. Allowing herself to help this group would form an emotional bond with them, and Shauna did not interact with people, anymore.

As the silence stretched on while the two men awaited an answer, Daryl became impatient and stood up to throw more brush onto the fire angrily before facing her with an accusation that cut her straight to the bone.

"If you don't want to help us then stop bringing us shit," he growled dangerously and began stalking towards her. Fear pumped through her veins and made her stand quickly, adrenaline shot through her making her body tense for a fight. Fight or flight syndrome, she thought, I never used to be a fighter.

He stopped barely a foot from her, his broad, well-muscled shoulders and height seemly imposing to her five foot five frame- making her feel small and childish.

"You must like playing God out there all alone in the big woods," his arms gripped her upper biceps and shaking her slightly, fingers digging into her skin. Shauna's heart rate shot up, and Rick finally stepped up resting his hand on Daryl shoulder, but he just shook it off.

"In reality your nothing but a self-absorbed bit-"the word was cut off by the sound of bone connecting to skin, sending Daryl back at least a foot. For half a moment, time stood still as Daryl stared in shock at the black haired, petite woman who stood with feet spread and body tensed for battle, eyes that reminded him of golden summers and green meadows daring him to try again- and attraction hit him harder than she had.

Daryl lunged towards her, with a sound in the back of his throat closer to that of an animal than a human, and found himself pinned underneath two full sized men. He kicked, he scratched, he bit; battered pride and fury fueled him as he fought the two men.

"Knock it off, Daryl! Oof!" He landed a punch in Rick's gut, but he didn't care. Rick sat on his hands, and the other man- who Daryl now discovered was Shane- sat on his feet in an effort to secure him. When Daryl dared to look over at the woman, she looked relaxed and unfazed, as though she knocked back full grown men every day. Her eyes no longer reflected fury, in fact, her eyes looked blank, and her facial expressions and body language signaled she were bored.

In reality, Shauna was trying her hardest not to shake out of her clothes. She had only been in a few fights, all of which were in her self-defense class in college. Never in her life had she fought another human being in an uncontrolled environment such as this- and she didn't know if she liked it. Slowly, the adrenaline drained out of her body as the men allowed Daryl up.

He brushed the dirt off his pants, threw a steely glare towards Shauna and walked away, pushing past Shane in the process.

"Are you alright?" Rick asked finally as he finished shaking the dirt off his body, Shane doing the same.

"I'm fine." She bit out shortly. That Daryl is going to be a problem, she decided after a moment. "I'll help you," she said looking at him, "but, only if you keep him" she threw a glare in the direction of Daryl, "away from me."

"Done." Shane said with a grin, this was going to be too easy.

"I'll see you in the morning then," and she walked away into the woods.

**A/N: **Sorry for the delayed update, I tried making it a little bit longer versus the short bunch of chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**A/N: Before any of you who have followed/favorited/added it to your story alerts try to kill me, maim me, or disown me I'd like to mention that the romance between Shauna and Daryl is going to be long winded and will piss you off by it's seemingly lack of progress. However, the end result will be amazing- trust me. As for this chapter? Well, it started as a character building exercise and I thought I'd throw it in here for fun since it gives you a little more insight into Shauna's mind. In case your curious (or confused... or both!) she is carrying a journal around with her that provides her some emotional comfort as well as providing anyone who comes upon it after her death with important information for survival. Remember, fan-fictions are fun, so no flamers, though friendly fire is welcome :) bon appetite!**

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><p><em>Date: Mid-November, 2013<em>

_Place: Chattahoochee National Forest, Georgia_

_Coordinates: 34.65, -84.05_

_Entry Number: 296_

_Owner: Shauna Shingiotewa-Collins_

The rate of infection continues to spread rapidly- I have yet to come across a place on the ground that is safe enough to camp in for the remainder of winter, and the tree's are becoming uncomfortable due to the cold weather. I require nothing elaborate, simply a secure facility that would shelter me from the elements... I am becoming desperate.

The group of survivors I came across have offered me their friendship by inviting me to sit by their fire and share their food. I noticed petty, trivial possessions amongst their camp- possibly an attempt to remain connected to their former lives and therefore, not allowing them to completely accept the changes around them.

Each day becomes harder to leave them as I have become quite enraptured with the only child remaining within the camp, Carl. I irrationally agreed to teach them to make their own clothing, by definition creating an emotional tie between myself and the group.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to remain emotionless when facing a hostile situation. I lost control of my temper and attacked a member of their group. While no one, aside from the man I attacked, seemed phased by my lack of propriety I am mortally embarrassed by my actions which only serves to add to my guilt.

I am 29 years old, my personal and academic accomplishments show great discipline, but I allowed a hot-headed, unsophisticated hick to engage my emotions to point of carelessness. I am not confident enough in my fighting and resourcefulness to think I could out-run the members of that society, and I feel as though I must contribute the outcome of the situation to pure luck- a scientific term that under normal circumstances would seem irrelevant.

Daryl is the name of the man whom I attacked tonight, and while it is no excuse he frightened me and I reacted instinctually. It is rare for me to lose my well guarded temper, and I rashly asked if the men in charge would keep him away from me; now, I'm already regretting that decision. Daryl is an excellent hunter and tracker. Statically much better than me, and I am not ashamed to admit he could teach what I do not know. I will however, not retract my statement for the time being, as I feel I have suffered enough humiliation at the hands of the rustic hillbilly. His health has seemingly returned and he'll be able to hunt for them from now on, relieving me the stress from hunting on a constant basis.

I find myself questioning his connection to the group outside of his skills, though. He's quite protective of them, especially a older woman named Carol, but still very distant from everyone. The entire group is dysfunctional, and yet somehow continues to work together.

Each play their part to a T, while maintaining their own independence and bumping heads in the process, allowing simplistic things such as food rationing and protective measures to become complicated. Its obvious from the way that Andrea, a young, blond female, and the beta, Shane, deliberately stood apart from one another, not even sparing a single glance, despite how evident it is that they are enjoying a clandestine sexual relationship- and the oldest of the group, Dale, hates Shane for a reason the group seems impervious to.

Rick continues to keep the group uninformed of Lori's pregnancy, though he won't be able to keep it a secret much longer as I can see from her pelvic structure and stance she'll be showing quite soon. I tell myself nearly everyday that I'm only staying to redeem my guilt, even to study the groups functionality, but I know in my heart it's untrue.

On a deep, personal note: I find myself terrified of what this new world may continue to bring. Medical supplies are low, food sources are depleting, and winter will bring more disease and famine. Once, I was a scientist dedicated to finding ways to protect the world. Now, I am simply a normal human being who fears for her life, as well as the lives of others.

There's a part of me that believes I should be looking for my Father, as I haven't from him in approximately six months. I just keep thinking of my little brother and how he died. I cannot allow something to happen to Carl. He needs to be protected at all costs- and I think my Father would understand that.

I think.


End file.
